It was raining today. It wasn’t just the rain, a light or heavy patter of rain from a gray sky onto the pitch, but a full storm. The heavy rain hit the ground in massive drops, splashing upward and creating mini-craters in the ground while the black sky rumbled with loud thunder and lightning bolts running between the heavy clouds. The wind whipped around the field, the rain pouring heavily down making it difficult to see the players in the field itself. The only visible signs of the players were their distinctively marked red or green jerseys-telling them exactly what team they were on.

Hermione was trying with all her might to watch Ginny, Ron and Harry play. Well, really just Ginny and Ron, since Harry was sitting high above the rest on his broom, scanning hopelessly for the snitch in the rain. It was already near impossible to find .it, and now the task had become impossible. Hermione desperately tried her hardest to watch Ginny fly with the Quaffle around the field, throwing into the Slyerthin posts, or watching Ron as he defended the posts well, but her eyes were betraying her in the most fustrating manner and she wanted to yank her hair out.

Her eyes wandered upward, past Harry to meet the steely gaze of the green uniformed seeker as he sat on his broom. His eyes would meet hers in a locking gaze, and she tried with all her might to look away-look anywhere but at him, but it was not working at all. She was hopelessly caught-like a fly in a spider web-in the gaze of Draco Malfoy. She decided, as long as he looked at her, he wasn’t looking for the snitch-so she justified her actions at gazing at him.

Finally, he flew off. He turned his back to the Gryffindor temptress so he could focus on the game, since her eyes were distracting him like no tomorrow. The rain was already heavy, so he could barely see, and the sky was dark, black clouds claiming the sky and making the pitch wet. He scanned helplessly for the snitch, and-just like prince potter-was having no luck in finding it. Angry, he cursed and began to fly fast circles, hoping to find the snitch at that speed. Potter flew behind him, trying to keep pace with the fast Slytherin. Suddenly, he got an idea. He bolted and headed downward, like he’d seen the snitch, with potter on his heels. He flew headlong with the ground, outreaching his arm, like the snitch was right there.

Hermione watched as the pair jolted towards the ground at that high speed. She grabbed her lip in her teeth and watched as Harry followed Malfoy, straight towards the ground. She watched in horror as Malfoy pulled his broom up, his feet skimming the ground while Harry plummeted into it. A loud gasp/scream came from her as he went sliding into the ground, leaving a heavy skid mark in the dirt. Malfoy watched from above as Potter face-planted into the ground, a smirk gracing his perfect face.

The cheers from his teammates were short-lived when he heard the sound a crack come from the sky. Draco didn’t have time to duck, or avoid the bludger as it came sailing to him. He saw Weasel holding the bat, and knew that he hit it at him. Draco felt it collide with his cheek bone, a loud sickening crunch sounding from the side of his face as he spun, the broom and him heading for the dirt. He regained control of himself and flew up into the sky, rocketing straight for Weasel, clearly angry.

Hermione meanwhile, didn’t have any idea what to do. Everything happened so fast, Harry hitting the ground, Ron grabbing a bat and slamming the bludger into Malfoy’s face, and Malfoy plummeting, then speeding off in Ron’s direction. She was in such a state of shock, she couldn’t move. Harry was getting up now, clearly alright from Malfoy’s dirty trick, but Ron, Ron and Malfoy, they were another story.

“What the hell Weasel?” Malfoy called as he circled above Ron. Ron’s eyes were heavy with rage.

“What do you mean ‘what the hell’ ferret? That was a nasty trick you played!”

“It’s part of the sport!”

“Not if you hurt my friends!”

“So that’s what this is about,” Draco mused, taunting Ron. He finally put the pieces together.

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked enraged.

“Tell me, is Granger still shagging you or has the incident between you and I still kept her away. Is she afraid you’ll beat her like you did me?”

“Shut up!”

“I think she is,” Malfoy continued, flying higher around the enraged redhead, “I think she doesn’t want you to touch her. I think she doesn’t want you near her anymore. I think she’s afraid of you now, afraid of what you do. I think she’s moved on.”

“Shut up!” Ron yelled, ramming his broom against Malfoy. Both of the boys took the hit and began spiraling towards the ground below. Ron twisted around in the air so he was on Draco, his fingers curled around Malfoy’s jersey. Malfoy’s face was bloodied and smeared with rain as the pair hit the ground.

Hermione watch as red and blond hair fell from the sky in a twisted mass and smashed into the ground with a resounding crack. She watched as Ron reached for Malfoy’s face, his fist curled back, and images of the first fight flashed across her mind. She couldn’t move, and only watched as Ron went to hit him.

But Malfoy was no fool. With a nonverbal spell, Ron went flying across the pitch. Hermione watched in horror as the bloodied Malfoy stood up, the entire left side of his face completely smashed up and wrong, contorted in an odd way-where his cheek was hallow and ghostly, a haunting look in his eyes. Hermione shuddered then, for he looked more terrifying standing in the rain there than she’d ever seen before.

There was an air about him, as he stood there with a haunting face in the rain that made Hermione feel like the room was ten times too small. His hair stuck to his face as he straightened his clothes. Water mixed with the blood pouring from his eye and nose as he made his way over to Ron. Ron lay on the ground in agony, hurting from the spell Malfoy sent to him. Hermione found her feet and shuffled through the crowd and down the bleachers towards the field. She didn’t know what was happening, but she was going to find out.

He met her in the passages between pitch and team rooms. He was wet, all wet, and he made his way to the lockers to change. Hermione nearly ran him down as she flew around the corner. Her small warm body collided with his icy one and he caught her by her wrists. When she realized who it was she pounded his chest with her fists and screamed at him.

“What did you do to him? What did you do?”

He looked at her, small droplets of water and blood from his face had fallen onto hers as he took in her appearance. She looked, well, confused.

“Weasel’s fine,” he answered emotionlessly, realizing her wrists. She staggered backwards, confused by his stony answer. He did answer her question that was unspoken, but not the spoken one. Before she had the chance to ask the question, he was gone.

Ron was fine, and Harry was fine. The game was won by Gryffindor- as Malfoy had walked off the field, the Slytherin team forfeiting the game then. Hermione found her solace that night by the fire in the common room, with a book in her hands. Though as much as she tried to read, her mind kept fluttering back to the game that day, to Ron, to Harry, and to Malfoy. There was something different with him, and she couldn’t place it.

His words from the party a week before flitted in her mind everyday. She did wanted him, oh she wanted him very badly-but she could never let him know that, for her entire world would be ruined, everything she’d built up so greatly would be wrecked in one stupid move, with a boy who cared nothing for her. No she couldn’t and wouldn’t let herself fall for Draco Malfoy.

As if on cue, entering the common room was the boy in question. He was not alone this time around either. For a while, she had not seen any sluts wandering around the shared common room. It was a relief for a bit, to not hear the activities that went on in the room next to her, since they were so loud. Hermione always wondered if he really was able to make that racket, even through the walls.

Realizing just exactly what she had thought, she blushed madly and turned her face downward to the book as the boy and a blonde girl came into the room. Malfoy cleared his throat and Hermione forced herself to look at him. He met her gaze.

It was supposed to be an ‘are you jealous?’ girl, but when he met her eyes, he couldn’t look away. There was an unbearable pain in her orbs that struck him like lightning. Her brown eyes stared widely at him, full of complete loss for words and yet full of emotions, confusion, anger, jealous, sadness, disgust, and so on. He couldn’t bear it, so he looked away, anger filling his body at the guilt that she lay in him. He climbed his way to the stairs and slammed the door shut, the small blonde girl in tow.

Hermione did not cry when they left. She did not even let an emotion flicker across her face as she stood up and left the common room. She pulled on a heavy coat and wandered out in the halls, and down to the front gate, where the rain pounded angrily at the pavement. She stood there for a moment before preceding into the cold rain that night, making her way to the edge of the lake, to her favorite spot to think. She could have cared less if there was rain, because right now she needed to be alone and think, think about why she could not stop thinking about him.

She glanced up at the tower to see his light on before turning her face away again. Part of her was begging to cry, but she wasn’t going to do. There was no use crying over someone who did not care, someone with no heart. Hermione picked up a stone and tossed it towards the lake, cursing under her breath at the foul ferret for crawling under her skin like he did. She watched the rock sail into the rain sky, before finding her favorite tree by the lake to sit under. It was fairly dry under there, so she sat in the dir and looked out at the moonlit lake, the full moon lighting up the lake, making the top look like a large pensive, where not one ripple ruined it. Hermione sighed and stared.

Draco saw her from his room. She was just sitting there, in the rain under the tree. She looked pitiful from his window, her hair down and drenched, her body perfectly still in the stormy sky. He glanced out at the lake and shuddered. No one, not even himself, should be out alone at that time of night in the rain. He glanced over at the sleeping blonde in his bed and stood up, wrapping himself in robes. He didn’t know what was driving him to go to her, but he found himself striding out into the yard

Hermione picked up another rock an threw it angrily at the water. Watching the ripples as it landed she growled loudly before looking for another rock to throw. She fumbled around and picked it up, staring at the stone before chucking it away. She was angry with herself for wanting Malfoy, wanting the death eater’s son. She cursed and tugged at her hair, staring at the ground for her own stupidity.

She didn’t even hear the stone not hit the water. She didn’t hear the deep growl as the creature it hit moved through the grass towards her. She was staring angrily down at the wet ground as the creature approached. It was only when the creature growled again, Hermione looked up. Her entire body went ridge as a were-man stared at her from large glowing yellow eyes. She felt the blood leave her face and panic begin to boil in her blood. She couldn’t move then, she knew it wasn’t a good idea to have been out that late, but still she was, and there it was, staring at her like a she was the next meal. She cursed her luck.

“Leave me alone,” she said, pulling out her wand. Her fingers were frozen and she could barely grasp it. The man felt her fear but continued to come closer to her, his mouth turning into a terrible smile.

“Come one love, what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here by herself?”

“Go away,” she said again as he approached. Her fingers failed her, her mind failed her as he closed the distance between them. His overly hot breath hit her neck as his hands reached roughly around her. She whimpered.

“You smell like my last meal,” he said in her neck, “She smelled so good too.”

“Please, stop,” Hermione begged, her voice cracking as tears began to fall. Where was her Gryffindor courage now?

Draco saw what was happening though. He saw the monster approach her there, he entire body shivering in the rain. He knew she didn’t have the strength to hex him. Draco knew she was going to die, and he had to do something. He didn’t know why, but he had to save her, there was something that was compelling him to save her. He watched as the were-man placed his filthy hands on his mudblood and his blood boiled.

Draco did the only thing he knew how too. He whipped out his wand and pointed it at the man, and with the angriest tone he had, screamed at the were man.

Avada Kedavra!

The green light flashed in front of Hermione’s eyes and she thought she was going to die. The warm body that was pressed against hers just moments before was gone, blasted away by the wind and rain that hit her now. She barely had time to think when another pair of arms engulfed her. She screamed and struggled against them, but they were strong, much strong than she thought and so she fell subject to them. She turned her face to see the still and dead form of the were-man that attacked her. Her whole body shivered as she turned to meet the face of her savior.

She screamed louder as her eyes met Draco Malfoy’s silver ones. Her whole body shook violently, in an unnatural way in his arms. It was like the worst nightmare to ever occur to her. Not only had he invaded her mind, but he was there now, saving her! She didn’t want this, she didn’t want to think about him- didn’t want him see her weak and frightened, let alone owe him anything, but now she was in deep. She owed him the greatest thing imaginable.